Hospitality
by Regaime Seishi
Summary: L is separated from his class trip and lost in a museum. he has 5 bucks in his pocket and there's a dunkin d's across the street...just L being L. the 1st chapter is without spoilers and the second is the original. this came from 2 much sugar y'all. ehe.
1. revised without spoilers

Hospitality

Ryuzaki stares at an intriguing painting with not your typical eight-year-old scrutiny. The painting itself wouldn't seem like much at first glance, for it is merely splotches of paint splattered in the utmost entropy. But this young boy dissected it with his eyes, finding many meaningful patterns in its depths.

He looks up suddenly, an alarm going off in his head; it is unusually quiet and he notices he is the only one in the museum exhibit hall. He glances then at his watch, realizing his class field trip's time of departure had long since passed. He is annoyed no one had bothered to notify him about the time, but he isn't surprised in the least; he knows he has no friends. In fact, he wagers that the other boys are probably laughing at him as they ride home safe and secure.

He rushes outside to see if the bus has left, even though his instinct tells him he is stranded. He isn't worried because he is confident in his abilities to handle himself and even without that, he knows as well that panicking will accomplish nothing. He has five dollars in his pocket, which is useless for a bus ticket as he is twenty miles from the school and even further from the orphanage. His phone and laptop are in his room back there, for the rules of the trip were to leave such electronic devices behind.

He tries to remember the emergency number he memorized that morning but his brain fails to supply it; it has been many long hours since he has had _any sort_ of sugar and his mind is slow from a restless night. Knowing the money could be used for a better end, he walks into the Dunkin Donuts on the opposite side of the street and takes his place at the end of an annoyingly long line.

Ten minutes pass as the customers in front of him are attended to. He fidgets the entire time, still trying to recall that blasted phone number. He shifts his weight first from one foot, then to the other, and then back again. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he slouches, peering curiously at the people seated around the restaurant. Some stare back uneasily as others quirk their eyebrows at his thick eyeliner and untamed hair; he ignores their obvious disapproval. Finally it is his turn.

Now he approaches the counter and places both hands on it as he looks up at the cashier with wide, piercing eyes.

"Can I…help you…?" the cashier, a woman, asks. She pauses in the middle of her sentence to avert her eyes, feeling uncomfortable under this boy's intense stare, then trails off, wondering where his family is, for she sees no possible candidates in the store.

"A large coffee with…25 sugars," Ryuzaki orders, "Please," he adds to sound polite.

The woman behind the counter blinks twice in rapid succession.

"I'm sorry, how many sugars did you say?" she asks.

"25," Ryuzaki clarifies.

"25 sugars…" the lady repeats, confused by such a high number.

"That is correct."

"D-did you say…" the lady starts; she shakes her head to rid herself of her surprise and changes her words, "Um, can I ask where your parents are? We aren't allowed to sell coffee to minors without permission."

"For what reason?" Ryuzaki asks, his eyes narrowing slightly at the thought of not being able to receive his energy boost.

"Because…I-I'm not sure actually…" the woman stutters, feeling the heat of this boy's gaze.

"Well, it's no matter. My mother asked me to get this for her; there weren't any parking spots, or else she would have gotten it herself."

"Oh, ok then," the cashier brightens, "One minute please."

She pours the coffee and then hesitates with the sugar. After a moment she returns to the counter with the dispenser in hand.

"Um…are you sure your mom wanted that much sugar?" she asks.

"_Yes_," Ryuzaki says firmly, "If you don't mind, I'm in a hurry."

"O-of course," the cashier replies. She blushes, embarrassed with her behavior.

Ryuzaki nods, amazed by this lady's stupidity; obviously a grown woman would not ask for so much sugar. Dismissing this thought, he tries to see just how many she puts in, but her back is to him and her body obstructs his view. Seconds later she returns with his cup and punches his order into the computer.

"That'll be—" she begins, stopping as Ryuzaki pushes the five toward her and finishes her sentence.

"4.17," he says.

"Yeah…" the cashier takes his money, impressed with his math skills.

She gives him his change and deems his order over, but instead of moving away from the counter, Ryuzaki takes the cover off the cup, sticks his finger into the coffee and then into his mouth to test its sweetness.

"Can I have…ten more sugars?" he asks with the digit still between his teeth, then changing his mind as he removes it, "Actually, can I just add it myself? I know how my mother likes it and she is quite particular."

The lady, by now exasperated, grabs the sugar dispenser and places it on the counter in front of Ryuzaki with a bit more force than necessary. She waits, clearly annoyed as she watches him add ten…then fifteen…then twenty more spurts of sugar. She reaches her hand out to take it back when he stops, assuming he is finished until he hastily adds three more sugars with a thoughtful air.

"I don't see how your mother isn't a diabetic," the cashier mutters.

He hands it to her now and takes a sip without lifting the cup. His face breaks into a childish smile as he regards her, his eyes half exclaiming his coffee is now perfect, and half acknowledging the fact he has tricked her.

"Thank you," he says, leaving the counter at last.

The cashier glares at him as he walks away; he can feel her spiteful eyes on the back of his head. His slouch deepens as a response but he otherwise ignores her and sits down to think.

He sits with both knees to his chest in a perching position as he guzzles his coffee. Almost immediately his mind speeds up and the phone number returns. He re-memorizes it as he finishes the last sip and then he approaches the counter again; luckily, this time there are no other customers.

"Is there a phone I can use?" he asks the same cashier.

She frowns at him, narrows her eyes and shakes her head. Ryuzaki's eyes shift to the phone on the far wall behind her.

"Can I use that phone?" he asks more specifically.

"It isn't working," the lady replies, her scornful look unwavering.

"Why isn't there an 'out of order' sign on it then?" Ryuzaki presses, knowing without a doubt that she is lying.

"No tape."

"Well…in that case, can I fix your phone so that I can use it?"

The cashier laughs now, simultaneously impressed and annoyed by this boy's persistence. Knowing he will find out she is lying if he picks up the phone, she shakes her head.

"You won't be able to fix it."

"If I prove you wrong, can I use it?" Ryuzaki rephrases, beginning to loose his patience; if this takes too much longer, he will require another coffee and he hasn't the finances for that.

"No, because you can't fix it," the cashier snaps, loosing her patience as well.

"I am fairly confident I will be able to, not that _you_ have any idea what I do and do not know, given the fact I know more about phones and other electronic devices than you do," Ryuzaki counters, now officially fed up with this lady's inflexibility, "Besides that, I doubt the phone is even out of service. And if it _is_ out of service, you no doubt have another phone I can borrow. That in mind, if you do not allow me to use that phone, or any phone in general, I will go to great lengths to have you removed from your line of work."

Ryuzaki peers up at the woman in disdain, his face blank, while the woman in question blinks as if she has been slapped in the face. It turns a deep red, for she knows she has been backed into a corner by a boy who hasn't yet made it out of grade school.

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when you can't fix it," she relents with a dismissive air.

She wanders over to the phone and picks up the receiver as if checking to see if it is still broken. As she does this, she very discretely, or rather, discretely in _her_ opinion, unplugs the phone line and allows the cord to drop to the ground. Had she done something different with the phone line, Ryuzaki would have missed the event and figured the problem out himself, for the cashier's body blocked it from his view. But this does not occur and he sees the cord hit the ground at her feet. He grins in anticipation; this lady is making his life very easy at the moment.

"You can try, but I doubt you'll be able to fix it," she says, shrugging before returning to the counter and opening the door to let Ryuzaki through.

His grin still in place, he reaches down to pick up the phone cord. He plugs it in and picks up the phone itself, waiting for the dial tone. It sounds and he makes his call. As he hangs up a few minutes later after explaining his predicament to Watari, he unplugs the phone line and places it back on the ground just to mock the cashier. Now he turns to her one last time.

"Your phone works," he states innocently, as if she hadn't already known that, and grins again.

As he makes his way back to his seat to wait for Watari to pick him up, he feels her glare again. This time he is unfazed by it and merely smiles to himself, feeling good after outsmarting yet another ignorant adult. Perhaps he has even taught her a thing or two about hospitality.

When Watari arrives, he tells the mentor about his adventure away from home, as if curious of it happening. Watari shakes his head from the driver's seat and peers at his student through the rear-view mirror.

"L, what am I to do with you?" he asks, shaking his head again with a smile; only Ryuzaki would handle the situation as such.


	2. original with spoilers

Hospitality

Lawliet stares at an intriguing painting with not your typical eight-year-old scrutiny. The painting itself wouldn't seem like much at first glance, for it is merely splotches of paint splattered in the utmost entropy. But this young boy dissected it with his eyes, finding many meaningful patterns in its depths.

He looks up suddenly, an alarm going off in his head; it is unusually quiet and he notices he is the only one in the museum exhibit hall. He glances then at his watch, realizing his class field trip's time of departure had long since passed. He is annoyed no one had bothered to notify him about the time, but he isn't surprised in the least; he knows he has no friends. In fact, he wagers that the other boys are probably laughing at him as they ride home safe and secure.

He rushes outside to see if the bus has left, even though his instinct tells him he is stranded. He isn't worried because he is confident in his abilities to handle himself and even without that, he knows as well that panicking will accomplish nothing. He has five dollars in his pocket, which is useless for a bus ticket as he is twenty miles from the school and even further from the Wammy House. His phone and laptop are in his room back there, for the rules of the trip were to leave such electronic devices behind.

He tries to remember the emergency number he memorized that morning but his brain fails to supply it; it has been many long hours since he has had _any sort_ of sugar and his mind is slow from a restless night. Knowing the money could be used for a better end, he walks into the Dunkin Donuts on the opposite side of the street and takes his place at the end of an annoyingly long line.

Ten minutes pass as the customers in front of him are attended to. He fidgets the entire time, still trying to recall that blasted phone number. He shifts his weight first from one foot, then to the other, and then back again. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he slouches, peering curiously at the people seated around the restaurant. Some stare back uneasily as others quirk their eyebrows at his thick eyeliner and untamed hair; he ignores their obvious disapproval. Finally it is his turn.

Now he approaches the counter and places both hands on it as he looks up at the cashier with wide, piercing eyes.

"Can I…help you…?" the cashier, a woman, asks. She pauses in the middle of her sentence to avert her eyes, feeling uncomfortable under this boy's intense stare, then trails off, wondering where his family is, for she sees no possible candidates in the store.

"A large coffee with…25 sugars," Lawliet orders, "Please," he adds to sound polite.

The woman behind the counter blinks twice in rapid succession.

"I'm sorry, how many sugars did you say?" she asks.

"25," Lawliet clarifies.

"25 sugars…" the lady repeats, confused by such a high number.

"That is correct."

"D-did you say…" the lady starts; she shakes her head to rid herself of her surprise and changes her words, "Um, can I ask where your parents are? We aren't allowed to sell coffee to minors without permission."

"For what reason?" Lawliet asks, his eyes narrowing slightly at the thought of not being able to receive his energy boost.

"Because…I-I'm not sure actually…" the woman stutters, feeling the heat of this boy's gaze.

"Well, it's no matter. My mother asked me to get this for her; there weren't any parking spots, or else she would have gotten it herself."

"Oh, ok then," the cashier brightens, "One minute please."

She pours the coffee and then hesitates with the sugar. After a moment she returns to the counter with the dispenser in hand.

"Um…are you sure your mom wanted that much sugar?" she asks.

"_Yes_," Lawliet says firmly, "If you don't mind, I'm in a hurry."

"O-of course," the cashier replies. She blushes, embarrassed with her behavior.

Lawliet nods, amazed by this lady's stupidity; obviously a grown woman would not ask for so much sugar. Dismissing this thought, he tries to see just how many she puts in, but her back is to him and her body obstructs his view. Seconds later she returns with his cup and punches his order into the computer.

"That'll be—" she begins, stopping as Lawliet pushes the five toward her and finishes her sentence.

"4.17," he says.

"Yeah…" the cashier takes his money, impressed with his math skills.

She gives him his change and deems his order over, but instead of moving away from the counter, Lawliet takes the cover off the cup, sticks his finger into the coffee and then into his mouth to test its sweetness.

"Can I have…ten more sugars?" he asks with the digit still between his teeth, then changing his mind as he removes it, "Actually, can I just add it myself? I know how my mother likes it and she is quite particular."

The lady, by now exasperated, grabs the sugar dispenser and places it on the counter in front of Lawliet with a bit more force than necessary. She waits, clearly annoyed as she watches him add ten…then fifteen…then twenty more spurts of sugar. She reaches her hand out to take it back when he stops, assuming he is finished until he hastily adds three more sugars with a thoughtful air.

"I don't see how your mother isn't a diabetic," the cashier mutters.

He hands it to her now and takes a sip without lifting the cup. His face breaks into a childish smile as he regards her, his eyes half exclaiming his coffee is now perfect, and half acknowledging the fact he has tricked her.

"Thank you," he says, leaving the counter at last.

The cashier glares at him as he walks away; he can feel her spiteful eyes on the back of his head. His slouch deepens as a response but he otherwise ignores her and sits down to think.

He sits with both knees to his chest in a perching position as he guzzles his coffee. Almost immediately his mind speeds up and the phone number returns. He re-memorizes it as he finishes the last sip and then he approaches the counter again; luckily, this time there are no other customers.

"Is there a phone I can use?" he asks the same cashier.

She frowns at him, narrows her eyes and shakes her head. Lawliet's eyes shift to the phone on the far wall behind her.

"Can I use that phone?" he asks more specifically.

"It isn't working," the lady replies, her scornful look unwavering.

"Why isn't there an 'out of order' sign on it then?" Lawliet presses, knowing without a doubt that she is lying.

"No tape."

"Well…in that case, can I fix your phone so that I can use it?"

The cashier laughs now, simultaneously impressed and annoyed by this boy's persistence. Knowing he will find out she is lying if he picks up the phone, she shakes her head.

"You won't be able to fix it."

"If I prove you wrong, can I use it?" Lawliet rephrases, beginning to loose his patience; if this takes too much longer, he will require another coffee and he hasn't the finances for that.

"No, because you can't fix it," the cashier snaps, loosing her patience as well.

"I am fairly confident I will be able to, not that _you_ have any idea what I do and do not know, given the fact I know more about phones and other electronic devices than you do," Lawliet counters, now officially fed up with this lady's inflexibility, "Besides that, I doubt the phone is even out of service. And if it _is_ out of service, you no doubt have another phone I can borrow. That in mind, if you do not allow me to use that phone, or any phone in general, I will go to great lengths to have you removed from your line of work."

Lawliet peers up at the woman in disdain, his face blank, while the woman in question blinks as if she has been slapped in the face. It turns a deep red, for she knows she has been backed into a corner by a boy who hasn't yet made it out of grade school.

"Fine, but don't come crying to me when you can't fix it," she relents with a dismissive air.

She wanders over to the phone and picks up the receiver as if checking to see if it is still broken. As she does this, she very discretely, or rather, discretely in _her_ opinion, unplugs the phone line and allows the cord to drop to the ground. Had she done something different with the phone line, Lawliet would have missed the event and figured the problem out himself, for the cashier's body blocked it from his view. But this does not occur and sees the cord hit the ground at her feet. He grins in anticipation; this lady is making his life very easy at the moment.

"You can try, but I doubt you'll be able to fix it," she says, shrugging before returning to the counter and opening the door to let Lawliet through.

His grin still in place, he reaches down to pick up the phone cord. He plugs it in and picks up the phone itself, waiting for the dial tone. It sounds and he makes his call. As he hangs up a few minutes later after explaining his predicament to Wammy, he unplugs the phone line and places it back on the ground just to mock the cashier. Now he turns to her one last time.

"Your phone works," he states innocently, as if she hadn't already known that, and grins again.

As he makes his way back to his seat to wait for Wammy to pick him up, he feels her glare again. This time he is unfazed by it and merely smiles to himself, feeling good after outsmarting yet another ignorant adult. Perhaps he has even taught her a thing or two about hospitality.

When Wammy arrives, he tells the mentor about his adventure away from home, as if curious of it happening. Wammy shakes his head from the driver's seat and peers at his student through the rear-view mirror.

"L, what am I to do with you?" he asks, shaking his head again with a smile; only Lawliet would handle the situation as such.


End file.
